


Fools' Gold

by ADashOfStarshine (ADashOfInsanity)



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3883762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADashOfInsanity/pseuds/ADashOfStarshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this life on the high seas, everyone seems to be searching for what they can't have. Ryouta left everything behind to travel the oceans with Hiyoko, desiring nothing more than to be closer to his best friend. Yet, for him, things haven't gone quite to plan. Now he's quite lost amidst confusing feelings, cursed treasures and beautiful mermaids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Sighting

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that all the characters in this story are older than their canonical selves and that all unscrupulous behaviour is consensual and done by those over age.

Ryouta idly rubbed at his face wondering if that would help get the smell of fish out of his skin. It seemed unlikely. The captain and her first mate had thought it a brilliant idea to try and teach the captive how to fish. They would undoubtedly try it again. Yet, like all attempts to get the Le Bel heir to do something useful, this one had ended up with a lot of shouting, their captive getting tied up again, and everything going back to normal.  Ryouta had tried to help. He had thought a patient approach to the captive would work much better, but of course no one was listening to him.  No one did when they were all trying to impress the captain twenty four seven.

Ryouta sighed. Yuuya had amazed the Captain with his ability to catch a large amount of fish in his nets and off they went, probably to her quarters.  Ryouta had been left carrying a single very large fish that had promptly leapt out of his arms and hit him in the face.  The cook had managed to place a knife through it before it flopped overboard but still… Hiyoko was probably having a merry time with Yuuya right now and what did Ryouta get? A slap in the face from a wet fish.  It wasn’t as if he wasn’t here because of her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t given up his honest job and become a pirate because of her. It wasn’t as if he felt isolated, in the middle of some god-forsaken sea, out of reach of law, order and all civilisations just because-

He turned suddenly, dropping the shirt he was mending. He had definitely heard a loud splash from right next to the boat. As he peered over the edge he thought it sounded like the noise a fish made when it leapt from the surface of the water. Yet that was far too loud to be a fish, or at least a normal sized fish anyway.  Were there dolphins? No…he would have seen a leaping dolphin, and there would be many of them surely?  He peered intently at the calm waters. They had dropped anchor and the ship was comparatively steady. It wouldn’t be anything on board that made that noise…

Ryouta suddenly gasped, rubbed his eyes, then openly stared.  Once, then once again, he saw a flash of green and a glitter of scales.  He stayed very still and sure enough, he caught the tip of a tail raise above the water. It reminded him of those jade figures they had robbed off that merchant vessel a few months ago.  The green fish was there for a moment and gone in the next. However Ryouta was fairly sure this one made his catch from earlier look like a tadpole.   He bent down to pick up the nearest fishing line and…

There was a splash even louder than the last.

He jerked up just in time to see the end of a shimmering tail, so bright in the midday sunshine that it almost dazzled him. As the sun caught its scales it seemed green no more but a whole array of golds, yellows and blues. Then it was swept back below the water, a writhing mass of green again, before vanishing completely.  Ryouta frowned. His first thought had been dinner but could he harm something so pretty? Hiyoko would surely be impressed if he caught a fish that big and beautiful. However how could he kill something prettier than a year’s worth of plunder?  He’d never seen a fish like that.  Were they local to these islands?

Another splash and another glimpse of its tail, Ryouta was fairly sure there was just one great fish. It seemed to be moving a lot without travelling very far. Wait! He hastily checked the lines  left over their fishing session. Sure enough, some were still dangled in the water, kept in place by being tied to the rail or having boxes put on them. One, pinned by a crate of ropes, was jerking this way and that.  Regardless of any beauty, nature had made Ryouta’s choice for him. The fish was thrashing, caught on this line. As Ryouta retrieved the line and tugged he knew his only choice would be to pull it up and-

And-

And-

Why was it so heavy? He could barely budge the line. How big was this fish? He pulled,  bracing himself with bended knees. He just had to get this monster on the deck! Then everyone would be impressed with him!

The line was shaking harder now, it was almost as if someone was playing tug of war with him, for every inch of progress he made in hauling the fish overboard, it wrenched away from him with a sudden jerk.  Ryouta drew his knife from his belt and held it between his teeth. He’d come this far. As soon as he saw this fish he was going to make sure it stopped thrashing permanently! He leaned over the side to see if he’d made any progress, looping the line over the rail.  The prospect of just getting the front end of this fish out the water was looking like it would be a huge achievement in itself. Nothing he’d caught so far had proved such a challenge.

“ _Come on_!”  

He mustered all his strength, imagining the line to be a rope  someone’s life depended on. Arms straining, back straining, feet knocking against the side of the ship, he pulled as if trying to save a drowning man.  There was an almighty splash followed by a cry, not unlike that of a distant gull. Ryouta ran the line through his hand, keeping up the incredible force as he inched closer to the side. This was it! Hiyoko would be so impressed with this, she’d be singing his praises for weeks! The line suddenly went slack and Ryouta cried out in his triumph. It was still heavy, so his prey must still be there. The fish had given in. He’d beaten nature. Looking over the side, still maintaining a tight grip, he was ready to see what ge'd got.  Maybe, if the fish was so big, there was a way to gut it without ruining its pretty scales. Maybe Ryouta could make something out of them and have those shimmering colours all the time. Maybe he could make a gift for Hiyoko! His heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.

“Let’s take a look at you then.”

He looked, but then couldn’t help but stare.

Protruding from the water was a human arm. It was bleeding heavily where the line had wrapped itself around, just above the elbow, and bitten into the skin there.  Ryouta watched in amazement as, with another flick of that sparkling tail, the so-called fish righted itself. A head now protruded from the shifting waters. It was a head that certainly didn’t belong to a fish.

A pair of eyes, the colour of firelight, met his own in a glare that was clearly tempered by the creature’s pain.  Sopping wet hair fell about their face, reminding Ryouta of the tufts of soggy grass that grew on the beaches at home with its hue.   Their hair was far duller than their tail but both were bizarrely green.  There was no point denying what this creature was. The top half of a human and the bottom of a fish? Ryouta had thought them the stuff of songs and tales. The bedside stories his mother used to tell him had many a beautiful mermaid. However he had always thought them the stuff of just that, stories.  Yet here one was, just as fantastical and beautiful as in the books.

The mermaid thrashed again, blood dribbling down their arm as they tried, in vain, to remain both upright, and free their arm of the line. Their gaze flickered between Ryouta’s astonished face and the knife he still bore in one hand. Upon realising this, Ryouta let out a hasty cry of apology.

“I’m sorry! I-I thought you were a fish. I’m not going to hurt you! I’ll-“ In his haste to prove his innocence, he could only think of one action to make things better. He swiftly cut the line, letting the bulk of it fall into the sea beside the beautiful mermaid.  They moved their arm experimentally, and upon finding they were comparatively free, spared Ryouta one last look before diving back beneath the waves.

“Don’t go!”  He knew even as he called it was no use.  The mermaid was right to be frightened after all. Ryouta didn’t even know if they could understand human speech and here he was, yelling at them, brandishing a knife as they were caught on his fishing lines. That had to be terrifying.  He sighed and leaned against the rail. A real mermaid…  What were the chances of that?

“Is something the matter Kawara?”

Ryouta gave a start.  Somehow the ship’s navigator had managed to sneak up on him. This was something of an achievement because usually Mr Nanaki was so slow, and sometimes so wobbly, that you usually spotted him coming from the other side of the deck. Not that he spent a lot of time up here.  Mr Nanaki’s tendency to fall asleep without warning proved a health-hazard amidst the work on deck. He’d got tangled up in ropes and fallen in barrels on multiple occasions. The captain had decided it was safer to keep him downstairs with the charts before he accidentally went overboard. He didn’t seem to mind. He was their navigator anyway, so really should be with the charts. Ryouta couldn’t help but feel he was a little wasted out here in the middle of the sea. Mr Nanaki was very smart, he could probably be doing something much more moral and well-paid elsewhere… like Ryouta.  The cabin-boy often wondered why someone as sensible as Mr Nanaki would want to be a pirate. However he was glad he was here. It was nice to talk to someone so calm and sensible every once in a while.

“I’m fine Mr Nanaki just…we lost one of our fishing lines.” Cutting it had seemed good as a spur of the moment decision but now Ryouta had realised he’d probably have to pay for a new one. 

“These things happen,” murmured the navigator, sitting down next to a cluster of barrels and rubbing at his eyes.

“Though that was a very urgent cry for a fishing line… Are you sure something isn’t wrong?”

“I’m fine; it just took me by surprise. I guess I just was lost in thought for a bit.”

“Ah I see.”

Even as he spoke, Ryouta was sure the navigator didn’t believe him.  Mr Nanaki looked as docile as he always did. However there was something very unnerving about someone who just sat there and simply listened to everything you had to say.  Or at least that was how Ryouta felt.  He usually did the listening and having a conversation the other way round was just  seemed weird.

His gaze flickered back to the waters, as Mr Nanaki rummaged in one of his pouches for a pipe and tobacco. That explained why he had come up on deck. Hiyoko didn’t like the smell clogging up her spaces and stinking up the charts. Ryouta didn’t mind it. A lot of men had smoked at his old work.   He wound up what was left of the fishing line as Mr Nanaki lit up and contemplated the sky.  Ryouta glanced upwards. The weather was exactly the same as it had been for the last few days: scorching hot without a cloud in sight.  Mooring up beside these uncharted islands had only obtained them some very dark tans and a few burnt faces so far.  Wisps of tobacco smoke dissipated uselessly into the relentless blue above them.  If the Captain was waiting for a break in the weather to go ashore they would be some time. Or at least that was what Ryouta thought, but he was only a cabin-boy.

“Biscuit for your thoughts?”

Ryouta looked down to see he was being presented with a shortbread biscuit. Somehow Mr Nanaki seemed to have an infinite supply of these. These biscuits were sweet and soft and nothing like that horrid tack that they had to eat when they’d been too long off shore. Ryouta eagerly accepted it.

“I saw something strange,” he began, “And it got me thinking about some of the stories my mother used to tell me about…about mermaids.”

“Ah,” Mr Nanaki replied, sounding surprisingly knowing. Ryouta sent him a curious look. What could he possibly know on the matter?  His sigh had seemed a little too understanding. Once again Mr Nanaki was being disconcerting.

“Mermaids are the downfall of pirates in many a story,” Mr Nanaki explained, “Especially those of a more romantic disposition, and those who are dissatisfied with their lot in life. “

“Well I’m not dissatisfied,” Ryouta objected. Mr Nanaki merely smiled about his pipe.

 “I must confess,” he continued, “I don’t see why mermaids would want to lead men to their deaths… I like to think sirens and mermaids are entirely different beings. Perhaps they are cousins, but something that was said to me once makes me wish that mermaids are both real and benevolent.”

“What was that?” Ryouta asked. He’s expected a comment on how he’d been out under the sun too long. Surely he’d be thought mad for mentioning something as fantastical as mermaids. However Mr Nanaki seemed to either be humouring him, or he found the topic genuinely interesting.

Mr Nanaki let out another sigh, this one had a melancholy note.

“Someone I knew…in another life, they asked me about mermaids during a lesson. They suggested that when an innocent person died at sea, they did not become an angel, but a mermaid instead. It’s a lovely idea. Not one that would be held up in any church of course.”

The idea was sweet, but Ryouta was too preoccupied with what he had just learnt about the navigator. He made it sound like he had been a teacher of some kind before he entered this life on the high seas.  Why had he ever quit? Good prospects awaited intelligent and literate men. Why would he ever prefer being on this god-forsaken boat? He had to ask. The idea was just too strange for him to handle.

“Why did you join this crew Mr Nanaki? What made you run away if you got to teach people back home?”

The navigator took a long drag upon his pipe and set a stream of smoke dancing amidst the flies circling lazily in the heat.

“I guess home stopped feeling like home,” he said simply, “Nothing stays the same forever.”

Ryouta couldn’t help but ponder over what he said.  The strange landscape about them,  the ever-present smell of fish, the glitter of fantastical scales, all of these were so unlike anything he would call home. Yet he had friends and a place to sleep.  He had adventure and new horizons, each as unpredictable as the last. He had Hiyoko. He thought he had Hiyoko at least. When he had left he had thought that was all he needed to call anywhere home. He, Hiyoko, together…

He stood up as the  navigator dozed off peacefully beside him.  Around the ship, the ocean swayed restlessly. He stared at it over his crossed arms, leaning on the rail.  

“I’m happy,” he murmured to no one in particular.

He was.


	2. Food for Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryouta finds himself drawn to the mysterious islands regardless of a dire warning.

There was a meeting of sorts happening on the deck.  So naturally Ryouta had been tasked with looking after the cast-away today. The Hunter-Gatherer technically had two captives at the moment. The Le Bel heir was the first.  They were meant to be holding him hostage, but they hadn’t been anywhere where they could send a ransom note as yet.  The second was the cast-away, a madman who they had found barely alive on the last set of islands they had decided to stop and investigate.  He wasn’t technically a prisoner. Hiyoko had taken pity on him and was trying to integrate him as one of them. However he was proving even more problematic than the Le Bel heir, for he had the tendency to break things alongside his long babbling rants.  They weren’t even sure what his real name was. None of the many names he gave matched that in his journal, a tattered diary they had discovered with him. However if they tried addressing him with that name, he seemed to have some sort of fit.  Ryouta had long wondered if getting any sense out of him was hopeless.

Yet here he was, taking food for him, and hoping that Anghel would be more cooperative. It wasn’t unheard of, in stories, that cast-aways would find God in an attempt to give their lives some meaning. Yet Ryouta was sure none of them had found God quite as enthusiastically as Anghel. Their cast-away seemed to believe he was some sort of fallen angel. (Which surely was a devil? Ryouta recalled that fact from visits to the church when he was small.)  Whatever the case was, Anghel was generally kept locked up below deck for his and everyone else’s safety.  Ryouta did feel a little sorry for him, but he thought it unlikely that they could help him if they didn’t take some time to understand him.  Time was not something they often had but now they were moored up on these strange islands… Well there was time now.

“Anghel!” he called, knocking loudly on the door to announce his presence, “Anghel, I have food! I’m coming in.”

There was no reply, so he unlocked the door and came in anyway.

The cast-away had pinned himself to the porthole and seemed to be straining to see the island beyond. Ryouta cleared his throat as he locked the door behind him. There was still no reaction. Anghel was flat against the side of the ship, his tattered clothing stuck in places to the damp wood. They had offered him a change of clothes but he had stated he didn’t deserve them. The clothes had been left in a neat pile on one of the high shelves. They were still there.

“Anghel?”  Ryouta had half a mind to leave the plate of fish on the side and leave him to it. However the cast-away was surprisingly quiet.  Something had to be the matter.

“Anghel what is it?”

He stepped closer, trying to get a look out the window too. However Anghel’s hair had formed something of a curtain. Ryouta frowned as he was left to ask, a little louder this time:

“Anghel, what’s going on?”

There was silence between them. Ryouta could hear the sea splashing against the side of the boat and Anghel’s rather frenzied breathing.  Something was definitely the matter. Anghel was never this still or quiet.  Well there was always the easy way of distracting somebody.

“Anghel, if you don’t want your breakfast I’ll-“

“Textorus Melodia Funeris…” Anghel breathed, not straying from the port-hole, “Be not bothered by such matters as bread and water when we draw so near to the Isles of Mesmerisia.”

“Mesmerisia?”  Ryouta had seen the charts and knew these islands were neither on them or named.  Was Anghel just spouting random nonsense again or did he actually recognise these islands? He had told them nothing about his previous crew or ship. There was always a possibility they weren’t the first ones here.

Anghel finally looked away from the window. His visible eye was wide with horror or awe. Ryouta couldn’t tell if it was both or neither. The ornaments that hung about his person tinkled as he turned to fully face Ryouta. He had bedecked himself out in bits of driftwood, metal and glass. They all had been broken, bound or shaped into the rough likeness of crosses. The effect of this was to make him look like something the sea had washed up on the shore with long hair instead of seaweed. That was just something you had to get used to when being around Anghel. His hair was still obscuring the window.

“The Isles of Mesmerisia are a place to be feared!” he proclaimed, “Many a vessel has lost itself in pursuit of its glory. It was not the isle itself that exploited their sinful hearts. It is an untouched beauty befitting of the footfalls of the blessed! Yet the pursuit of it enables Demon Spores to encroach upon the thoughts of any travellers, however faithful! It drives pity to spite, love to loathing, mercy to murder! Wicked men seek to haunt that isle for its unfathomable riches. My crimson breast aches at the thought of what the Gold of Tales Past can do to such-“

“Gold?”  Ryouta interrupted, “What gold?”

Anghel seemed to be going off on one but he was making a surprising amount of sense. There were of course many tales about lost islands full of long-forgotten gold. There were probably more about men who had fallen to evil in pursuit of riches. However Anghel seemed very certain that his dangerous isles were those out of the window. What harm could come to them to try out these ideas? They would have to go onshore anyway, if only for fresh water.

“Do not go searching for the Gold of Tales Past Textoris Melodia Funeris!” Anghel suddenly exclaimed, lurching forwards, away from the window.

“It is an evil lure! A plot by the dark things that run rampant through the human heart!  Such ill-gotten treasures inspire foul deeds from fouler men! This loyal servant was taken, _I_ was taken at the behest of the gold’s captives, from my resting place amongst the Holdings of Silver Beings, to be taken under their spell! Such magic they wrought entrapping me amidst their wicked deeds with circles that burnt this humble this servant! They kept me bound in their circles of iron, a bonded familiar, to aid them in their-“

Ryouta had stopped listening as soon as he had mentioned magic. From past experiences, that was when Anghel stopped making sense entirely. However he had been very coherent up to that point. He made it sound like he had kidnapped long ago, for the purpose of finding these islands. It would make sense that he could recognise them now. Ryouta found his thoughts swept away to what could lie beyond those sandy beaches, just visible through the porthole.  Was this why they had really spent so much time by these islands? Did anyone else know about the treasure? If not…should he tell Hiyoko? He only had the proclamations of a mad cast-away to go by. Yet, if he was responsible for finding a treasure haul worthy of stories… That would at least mean a promotion! Multiple promotions! Maybe Hiyoko would hold him in the highest regard at last!

“Where is the treasure stored?” he demanded of Anghel, interrupting him mid-story.

“Can you not take heed of my words?” Anghel seemed distressed, “Must this crew fall under the Funeral Song? Is winning the heart of the fair Edel Blau worth pestilence and damnation? A saint’s heart is not bought with cursed trinkets! Besides, you chase needlessly, for her gaze is far from your person.”

“Excuse me?” Had he just said what Ryouta thought he had said? What-what did some cast-away know about Hiyoko? How could Anghel know…anything! He was just some crazy man they kept locked up below deck.  He didn’t know her. Anghel didn’t know anything about her! Or him! Why was he even bothering talking with madman?!  Nothing he said mattered! Nothing! He wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Eat.” His voice cracked as he put the plate down and stormed out the room, banging the door loudly behind him. He was halfway towards the deck when he realised he’d forgotten to lock the damn door. He went back and locked it as obviously as possible, before retreating into relative solitude.

Isolation came from the crows’ nest. It was Ryouta’s area due to the fact he was the only one small and nimble enough to fit up there.   Even though the deck below was crowded with Hiyoko’s talk, everyone was oblivious to the fact they were being watched. This suited Ryouta fine. He couldn’t hear what they were saying over the creaking of the ship. They couldn’t hear his sobs over Hiyoko’s instructions. The whispering breeze, only felt by those so high up, was enough to obscure even the loudest cry above or below.  Ryouta was grateful for the chance to be alone. Though, as he wept, he considered that maybe he was alone too often. He certainly worked his hardest and cooperated with everyone else but… How well did he actually know everyone on the ship? How much did anyone try and get along with him? When he had joined this crew he had only known Hiyoko. When they had been packing up, making plans and generally anticipating their grand adventure, well they had made so many promises. They would still be best friends. They’d be spending just as much time together.  Nothing would have to change. Yet she had all those friends he hadn’t known about. The dashing rogues, the loud women, the men almost twice her age… Now she spent more time with them than him. He’d been forgotten because he wasn’t as exciting.  Now they were far out at sea and she could do anything and anyone…well, Ryouta was just a boring face from home. 

Ryouta scrubbed at his eyes. This only served to make them sting due to the layer of dirt and salt on his hands. He wiped them on his shirt but that did little good. He missed proper baths, in a tub with a brush and proper soap. Piracy wasn’t a lifestyle for him. All he could do was sit up here, cry, and feel useless. He wished he could go home. More than that, he wanted to see his mother again. Yet that would surely involve a tumble into the ocean.

He wasn’t sure how long he had spent up there. Everyone went back below deck  after Hiyoko’s talk to get out of the glaring sunlight. Ryouta was grateful he didn’t burn like the others though he did wonder if his dark tan was another reason why Hiyoko thought him undesirable. He sighed and leant on his crossed-arms. The days were long here. The weather seemed to want them to either bake in their skins or freeze to their bones, depending on whether it was day or night.  From his lofty height he could just about see trees on the nearest island. He wondered if there was drinkable water there for they would soon need it. Maybe Hiyoko was planning an expedition. That seemed the likeliest cause for a meeting.  It was unlikely he’d be sent ashore. It was the oldest and most experienced who got sent into unknown perils. Not the boring cabin-boy from home.

He eventually climbed down, hoping to leave his misery in the crows’ nest.  That did not work as well as he wanted, but he was soon distracted.  As he approached the side of the boat, wondering if the row-boats had been prepared for a trip, he saw a familiar flash of green.  He blinked and rubbed his eyes, making sure his bleary gaze wasn’t mistaken by a trick of the light. At first he thought it had. For a few minutes he saw no sign of glimmering scales . Supposing the sight to be an act of wistfulness, like Mr Nanaki suggested yesterday, Ryouta turned to head below deck. However there was a loud splash and Ryouta turned just in time to see the graceful arc of an emerald tail, returning under the water. They were back.

“Why are you here?” he demanded loudly, leaning overboard. The mermaid had got trapped yesterday, surely they should know better than to return. Maybe it looked human but didn’t have human levels of intelligence. That would explain it.

“Shoo!” Ryouta told them as he saw the end of their tail, “You’ll just get caught again! Or someone will find out and have you for dinner!”

The mermaid righted themself, clinging onto the side of a boat for support. One of the row boats had been lowered to the surface of the water and now the creature was inching along it, as if eager to clamber inside.

“Go away!” Ryouta called, drawing his knife, prepared to wave it about in a threatening manner. He would never actually stab the beautiful being though.

The mermaid grabbed hold of the side of the row-boat with their human-like hands.  It was then that Ryouta noticed the blood dripping down their arm. The arm that was caught yesterday was bleeding anew. To his horror, he realised why. He had cut it, but the line, and most likely the hook, was still caught in the mermaid’s flesh. The mermaid, now in the boat and panting hard, was staring mournfully up at him. Their eyes seemed full of pain and as Ryouta continued to stare at them, they proffered the injured arm, glancing at Ryouta’s knife. It was very obvious what they wanted.

“Wait there just a moment,” Ryouta said, wondering if the mermaid understood human language at all. He put the knife between his teeth and clambered overboard, using the ropes that kept the row-boat in place to climb down. The mermaid shied away from him as he grew near, but as both their curiosities grew, it stopped shifting and merely stared at Ryouta with eyes the colour of amber.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ryouta promised, having taken the knife from his mouth. He was now holding it up so the mermaid could see it.

“I’m just going to free your arm…you’re going to have to stay still.”

He stepped awkwardly over the creature’s large tail, which was twitching nervously at his approach. On closer inspection, the mermaid was less of a mer _maid_ and more of a mer _boy_. Their human half looked like that of child’s on the edge of manhood. They were thin, but did not seem unhealthily so.  Everything about them seemed to have a slight green tinge, apart from their eyes. Their skin, as pale as pearls, looked a little green about the tips of their fingers and their cheeks. Ryouta thought it was as if the sea had taken over where a blush should naturally lie, leading to a strange and rather unnatural form of beauty. The creature was undeniably beautiful. Their body was fair and though strangely coloured, their face was pretty. Ryouta could see where all the tales of leading men off to their doom came from. However usually the stories were quite explanatory about the mermaids’…bosoms, this creature did not have a bosom so to speak.  Upon their chest however, lay a gold necklace. It was thick, and undoubtedly heavy, made of a solid frame of gold that met in the centre of the mermaid’s chest. There lay a large red jewel in the shape of a tear drop. It wasn’t a ruby, Ryouta could tell that much. The gem was fiery-coloured, much like the mermaid’s eyes.  Ryouta thought he saw the colours shifting even as he watched. He pulled his gaze away, disliking the feeling of being hypnotised.

The mermaid, or merboy, watched him, still as a statue with their injured arm outstretched. Unsurprisingly, they smelt of seawater, but not fish, for which Ryouta was grateful. Their blood was as red as any human’s and was dribbling off their arm and falling in droplets, marring the brightness of their scales. Ryouta was glad there seemed to be no sharks about.

He leaned forwards ever so slowly. The mermaid flinched but did not move away. The line had caused a mess of the creature’s arm.  Ryouta felt like apologising but wondered if it was actually his fault. He hadn’t been the one to leave those lines there. Nevertheless, he found the hook, realising it would be easier to release the line with both ends free. It had stabbed painfully into the creature’s arm but thankfully the curve of the barb had not been embedded. He glanced into those odd orange eyes.

“Best thing for me to do is just pull this out in one go, it’ll be more painful if I go slow.” He took his knife and sliced off a section of his shirt sleeve.

“And after it’s gone, I’ll take off the line, wash the wound a bit, and then wrap it up. I’m guessing saltwater is what you’re used to? That’s not going to make it worse?”

The mermaid said nothing, just blinked at him in silence. Ryouta sighed. Did they even understand a single word he was saying? Well here went nothing.

“I’m going to take it out now,” he said slowly and clearly.  He took hold of the mermaid’s arm in one hand. It was cold to the touch. Stowing the knife away he took the hook with his other hand, fingers soon growing slippery with blood.

“Alright, three, two, one…” He pulled.

The mermaid let out a small sob. The sound was so human-like, Ryouta immediately felt terrible for them. However the hook was now in his hand and as he let go of the mermaid, he swiftly cut if off the line. After that, it was simple work to unwrap the line, cutting it in places to make the job easier.  The mermaid, who was now in tears, simply sat there and allowed him to move their arm at will.  As Ryouta washed and wrapped the large cuts left behind, he wondered as if the mermaid planned to simply jump overboard once he was done.  This may be why, even after they were free, he kept hold of the mermaid’s hand. It was very cool against the warmth of his sun-baked skin, and though a little clammy, the sensation was pleasant.

“Right, that should heal, given time. Just don’t make it any worse,” he informed the mermaid. The desire to give instruction overcame his doubts that they couldn’t understand what he was saying.  The mermaid merely stared at him, then at their hands.  They opened their mouth and Ryouta almost expected something along the lines of ‘thank you’, but no such luck. They shivered, closed their mouth and pulled their hand from his.  They probably didn’t understand him after all. Hopefully they knew to get out of the boat before the others made their trip.

Ryouta stowed his knife away with a sigh and made to climb back up to the deck. However as soon as he had touched rope, he felt himself being grabbed by the knees. He staggered, turned, and saw that the mermaid had made an ungainly lunge across the width of the boat.

“What is it?” he demanded.

The mermaid’s hands disappeared momentarily in their hair. From the action they made, Ryouta thought they were perhaps tying or untying a ponytail. However they had no such thing, all their hair was quite even. It wasn’t too far off the mark however. The mermaid seemed to untie from their hair, a silvery chain with a pendant, shaped like an oval. The pendant was mostly plain silver, except for a large stone set into the bottom of the shape.  It sparkled like the sun on clean waters, somehow glimmering despite being so clear, and well, perfect… A diamond? It must be. Ryouta had helped haul treasure before so had a passing familiarity with many riches. Yet he’d never seen so large a diamond before. It was as wide as his thumb.

The mermaid reached forward, shaking the necklace at him. Ryouta stared at them in shock. For him? He reached forwards and the mermaid did not shy away until the necklace was very firmly in his hand.

“Thank you,” he said, drawing the precious jewellery closer. As far as he could tell, and he was no expert, that was most definitely a diamond.  He glanced at the mermaid who had just shaken their head. They gestured at their bandaged wrist and Ryouta understood. He wasn’t supposed to be saying thank you. This was the mermaid’s way of saying so.

“You’re welcome,” he amended, giving a polite nod to them, humbled by the extravagance of their gift.

The mermaid looked a little surprised at the gesture but then smiled. Ryouta felt a strange sort of swooping sensation in his chest. They were very cute when they smiled. Perhaps as cute as Hiyoko had once smiled, when they used to go exploring the market together as children.   Maybe even cuter…  Though Ryouta would once have believed that impossible.

The mermaid dragged themself over to the side of the boat and contemplated the little waves below.  Ryouta wondered if they needed assistance getting back into the ocean. However only a moment later, the mermaid had given the side of the boat an almighty shove, it rocked, and the mermaid tumbled into the water. Ryouta was immensely grateful that he had been holding onto the ropes, for the mermaid had given him no warning.

The water rippled for a moment, but then it was comparatively still. Ryouta watched the spot where the mermaid had vanished and wondered if he would ever see them again.  He considered, if the mermaid was a native of those islands, that maybe there would be more treasure there the likes of which he had just been rewarded. However if there were jewels there they would undoubtedly belong to the mermaid and their fellow natives.  They were not for the taking. Ryouta considered the necklace for a moment and wondered if Hiyoko would be impressed by it. It was however a gift intended for him. It would be rude to simply give it away.  He sighed and slipped the chain over his head, tucking the pendant beneath his shirt. The wet metal provided some relief but served as a heavy reminder than he was probably carrying the most valuable jewel on the ship around his neck. Not only that, he probably shouldn’t tell anyone about this either. The other pirates probably wouldn’t believe that he’d met a real mermaid and insist that he’d gone against orders and gone ashore. Maybe then they’d set about plundering the island, oblivious to the mermaid’s home.  He sighed again and looked upwards, Keeping secrets meant keeping them from Hiyoko too…

“When I am sad, I sing.”

Ryouta jumped, the boat rocked and he almost fell in himself. A mop of green hair had suddenly surfaced beside the row boat. The mermaid quickly parted it so they could see.

“What?” Ryouta couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent than that. The mermaid had just talked. The mermaid had actually spoken! Why hadn’t they done so before?

His answer came swiftly as the mermaid brushed their hair from their eyes and actually laughed. They were smiling again evidently finding his shock very amusing. Perhaps they had been quiet all this time just so this moment would be enjoyable.

“When I am sad, I sing,” they repeated, before adding: “It helps.”

“Are-are you often sad?” Ryouta asked,  wondering all of a sudden how this fantastical creature knew his language and how they seemed to know he had been crying earlier.

“Mm.” They made a general noise of agreement as they drifted a little away from the boat. Ryouta was struck by the thought that they were about to leave, so called out:

“What’s your name?”

The mermaid merely smiled and sank beneath the waves.


	3. Tales Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiyoko takes the experienced members of her crew to the shore and Ryouta is left puzzling about the nature of the islands ahead of them. Fortunately he's not alone in this predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the long wait. The last few months have been hectic with coursework, graduation and moving house. However I am now back and I've decided to return with a chapter of my very self-indulgent pirate AU.
> 
> If you would like to know some of the thought process that went in behind this chapter, please check my tumblr, which is also adashofstarshine c:
> 
> Also a big shout out to Secret-Soup who drew an amazing castaway Anghel! I'll reblog that again onto my tumblr and I recommend you all check it out because it's amazing! I hope you enjoy the large amount of Anghel in this chapter Secret-Soup!

“Right listen up!”

Ryouta was halfway to the crows’ nest and hanging on tight. He wasn’t eavesdropping. Truly he wasn’t. It was just the fact that he was bored. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.  He was simply struggling to find anything else of interest. He’d finished scrubbing half an hour ago and now, well, how often had anyone gone to shore recently? Maybe he’d hoped Hiyoko would notice his presence and invite him along. He’d love to set foot on solid land. Or get chosen for anything other than chores really.  The stories he’d heard at home made being a pirate a whole lot more interesting than this. There was a lot of waiting around and hesitation that never got mentioned in any book.  They had been next to these islands for so long now and it was only today that anyone was going to venture ashore. Ryouta thought this was probably only because of their dwindling fresh water and food supplies.

Hiyoko stood proudly before her crew, decked out in fine blue captain’s coat, bird perched proudly on her shoulder. Ryouta sighed and merely gazed at her as the wind suddenly whipped her instructions out of ear shot.  Hiyoko made a good pirate captain. She was strong, charismatic, determined… She wasn’t afraid to give someone a good wallop if they weren’t following orders.   It seemed she’d got her part of their dream and more.   At home she’d been stuck hauling furniture around for a living. Of course she was looked down upon for it. Apparently the gentle sex shouldn’t be doing such hard labour because it was ‘unladylike’. However Hiyoko hated being ladylike with a burning passion and usually let those who lectured her know where to stick it.  Ryouta had no problem with being ladylike but then again…his previous employer had some curious tastes. Nevertheless, Hiyoko had found liberation and power out on the high seas. Ryouta had found demoralisation and the constant smell of fish. He felt cheated quite honestly.

He watched on as Hiyoko delivered what was undoubtedly an inspiring and gripping speech to the assembled crew members. He couldn’t hear it over the wind. Yet from the cheering and the enthusiastic gestures, it looked like the crew was very enthusiastic about what she had to say. They filed off into row boats.  The crew members who got the honour of being with the captain in her boat all seemed pleased with themselves. Ryouta couldn’t help but notice that Hiyoko’s first mate wasn’t with them. In fact, he didn’t seem to be going on this expedition at all. How weird. Maybe he should go and ask Yuuya why not. He’d seen Yuuya in action and he was certainly impressive. This decision not to include him seemed incredibly bizarre.

As soon as they were far enough out that his presence wouldn’t be noticed, he scrambled back down the ropes and went below deck.  At this time of day the first mate should be working. Should, being the important word there. Ryouta decided to head off towards the navigation room. It was where all the important decisions were made.

This large space was by far the finest area aboard The Hunter-Gatherer. Ryouta had heard from others that Hiyoko’s room matched up, if not surpassed, it in grandeur. However the delicacy of the navigation room struck Ryouta the most. The ship, a stolen naval vessel, was otherwise very practical and war-like. The crew’s quarters were meagre. The kitchens were nothing extraordinary. The exterior of the vessel had undoubtedly once been magnificent. Long voyages at sea however, were not very good for the paintwork and had left it looking a bit worse for wear.  All in all it was a very functional ship. Except for the magnificence of its navigation room…

Ryouta had once been to a country estate with his mother. The detail on the ceiling of the room looked incredibly like the gilt patterns present on the doors and walls of the manor house.  Leaves and flowers, made from plaster and painted vividly, adorned where wall met ceiling and about the wide windows. The windows themselves contained stained glass, proudly displaying an imperial flag. It made Ryouta think that no one was aware that this ship was actually built in a colony. This particular colony was so far away from where that flag was native, that the land it represented was almost as mythical as a mermaid. Both seemed so bizarre but were in fact real… Well Ryouta had learnt that much of late.

The flag rested on an flag-pole which stopped at the window frame.  Between the flag and the frame was some sort of motto in Latin. Ryouta did not speak Latin but had been informed by Mr Nanaki that it said “To walk waves, to bring peace.” Considering this ship was once called the H.M.S. Peace, it made sense. Ryouta wasn’t entirely sure how much peace you could bring with a fully armed naval vessel though.

Either way it made a very good pirate ship and brought some beauty into their otherwise dull lives.  Between the Captain and the ship’s navigator, this room had been filled with some very extraordinary things.  There were globes of the world, showing all the countries that been discovered and some which were only rumour. There were star globes too, far more beautiful that the worldly ones. Ryouta’s favourite was set with silver inlay and the constellations had been drawn out as pictures in fine detail.  Beside some of the globes, on a secure shelf, lay Mr Nanaki’s collection of small glass bottles. With no idea why he collected bottles, Ryouta could only admire them for all their different shapes and sizes.  It seemed he’d collected bottles from every port they’d visited. Not all of them had contained beverages either. Some of them were for oils, others for medicines. Only one bottle on the shelf was filled however. It contained a strange whitish powder, which had no label. However the only time Ryouta had touched it, Mr Nanaki had suddenly snapped to attention and told him not to open that. It had however already been opened at least once. Ryouta could tell the seal had been broken. It was kept right at the back of the bottle collection, as if Mr Nanaki wanted it kept away from prying eyes but not in his bunk with him.

As Ryouta moved through the navigation room, his gaze caught upon the little stack of bottles. He couldn’t deny his curiosity. However he didn’t want to betray Mr Nanaki’s trust, not aided by the fact he found the adult a little intimidating. Instead he focussed on the table of charts, which lay in the very centre of the room.  He didn’t have the knowledge of how to use them or any of the spindly instruments that lay around the table. The greatest point of interest however seemed to be a little red flag placed near the left side of the map. Ryouta stared at it. It appeared to be the middle of the ocean. Was that where they were heading?

“They’re not on the map,” came a sleepy voice from beneath the table. Ryouta gave a start. He had just been reaching for the flag when Mr Nanaki stirred. Ryouta stepped backwards and put his arms behind his back like a naughty school boy caught stealing sweets.

“What’s not on the map Mr Nanaki?” he said quickly, changing tact and offering the man a hand up.

“These islands,” The navigator gave a small yawn and crawled out from under the table. He got up, nodded thankfully at Ryouta, and then dusted off his top. After a quick glance that everything was in order, he turned to the table.

“Ah. This reminds me Kawara, have they left yet? The Captain gave us something to do.”

“Yes they went a while ago,” Ryouta replied, “What did the Captain want?”

It felt good not to be forgotten.  

“She wants us to take the cast-away up to the deck and make sure he calms down and gets some fresh air,” Nanaki said. His tone was serene however his gaze kept flickering from Ryouta back to the table as if wondering if he was still there.

“He’s apparently been acting even more bizarre lately. We’re to make sure he’s alright.”

Ryouta didn’t need to go and check on the cast-away again to know what was bothering him. Anghel had been glued to that port-hole when he’d last visited and he expected that the madman was still there. The islands were the reason he was being extra odd. It wasn’t the job Ryouta would have wanted to be given, but they might get more sense out of Anghel if they took him on the deck to see the islands a bit better.

“Sure. Are we going to do that now?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Ryouta was right. They found Anghel pressed against the side of the ship. He’d eaten, which was some consolation, however he seemed just as fixated as before. He wondered if between them they would have to manhandle him up to the deck. However when Nanaki  asked how he was doing Anghel replied rather normally, for him.

“I find myself in high spirits oh watchful one. Though how high these spirits remain so near that dreadful isle, only the distant stars can tell. I feel its aura perpetrating through this vessel already, even upon you sleeping demon”

“That’s nice Higure.” Nanaki didn’t seem at all phased by being called a demon.

“Would you like to come to the deck with us? You’re looking a little peaky. Some fresh air will do you good.”

Anghel looked at his own hands. Ryouta waited for inevitable denial. If he thought he wasn’t worthy to put on fresh clothing then why would Anghel think he was worthy to upstairs? There was no point trying to persuade him out of things

“I was of the impression,” Anghel began, “That Textoris Melodia Funeris was still afflicted by the foes of Spite and Denial from our encounter the other noon. My venturing forth and accompanying you to the High Platform would be disadvantageous to the harmony of this vessel.”

“Just come to the deck,” Ryouta snapped.  Clearly not expecting it, the other men recoiled slightly.

There was an awkward silence as Anghel stared at Ryouta and Nanaki merely smiled at them both. However, with a sudden tinkle and clicking of ornaments, Anghel got up.  The visitors backed away a little as the castaway headed over to the spare set of clothes and grabbed the shirt. Before Ryouta could fully comprehend what was going on, Anghel had stripped off his ragged vest and replaced it with the shirt. In that brief exchange, Ryouta thought he saw a tattoo on the madman’s shoulder. In what looked like a scrawling handwriting, something had been written there. Anghel was clothed again far too soon for him to read it though.

“Are you going to do anything about your breeches or are you happy?” asked Nanaki, who did have the sense to look away.

“I am appropriately garbed,” Anghel decided.  The shirt was far too long for him, it had surpassed the realms of tunic and was approaching that of dress. He twisted his old shirt up and fashioned himself a belt to keep it from getting tangled at his knees. He looked odd but, when did he not?

“That’s good then. Follow me.”  Nanaki gave a little wave and wobbled out the door. Ryouta followed in pursuit after Anghel, walking behind just to make sure the lunatic didn’t bolt.

It was a beautiful day outside. It was always a beautiful day outside. There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky the entire time they’d been moored up here. The wind had died down and a cool breeze lifted the worse of the heat from the back of their necks.  The trees swayed mysteriously upon the nearest island.  Ryouta, if he peered with one hand shielding his eyes, could see the row boats on the closest beach. There appeared to be two people sitting with them, there might be more, they were too far away to tell.

“The Isles of Mesmerisia…” Anghel sighed, leaning on the rail with his arms crossed. Beside him, Nanaki had pulled out his tobacco pouch and was filling his pipe.

“They don’t look very dangerous,” Ryouta pointed out. He remembered all of Anghel’s warnings from before but found them difficult to believe out here in the sunshine.

“Looks can deceive the purest soul Textoris Melodia Funeris,” Anghel replied. There was a slight crack as he bent over. His back seemed to snapitself back into shape.

“The fair face may hide a wicked mind,” he continued, “The benevolent air can mask vicious intent.”

“Hmm,” Nanaki agreed, but said no more.

Ryouta sighed. He knew that much. The prettiest people could not be as you’d expect them to be. He wasn’t a child anymore who needed to be coddled with bedtime tales that had moral messages.

“Then what’s so dangerous about it?” he asked, “You said it led men astray and that people on this ship were already being fooled by it. Does that mean those that went ashore are in danger?!”

The last thought struck him suddenly.  So many of the crew was on that island! Hiyoko may be mighty but who knows what they could be up against.  There surely wasn’t a special type of kick that worked on Mermen with spears.

“There is no need to fret as yet,” Anghel assured him, “There are undoubtedly beasts upon that isle but the true danger of the Scorpion Tail Islands lies in its bewitching influence over-!“

A sudden outburst of coughing interrupted Anghel mid-exclamation. He and Ryouta turned in surprise to see Nanaki choking, it seemed, on his pipe smoke. Ryouta went over and helpfully hit him on the back.  Nanaki coughed and spluttered, leaning heavily on a nearby barrel. When he righted himself, eyes watering, he thanked Ryouta and went back to his pipe. Ryouta considered telling him that the pipe was probably not the best option right now, but thought better of it.

“Are you well?” Anghel asked of Nanaki. The navigator nodded.

“I’m fine Higure.  Excuse me, could you repeat that bit about the influence? What were the islands called again?”

“The Scorpion Tail Islands!” Anghel said louder and more enthusiastically, “I have heard great many a story about their ability to corrupt the minds of devout men. The shape of the islands, they arch to the north and appear segmented like the tail of the scorpion beast. I named them the Isles of Mesmerisia after I fell into the hands of one tainted by their influence. He was mesmerised, if you will, by the tales of magic and glorious riches.”

“How exciting,” Nanaki commented. He sounded sleepy rather than excited, but that was how he was most of the time.

“What magic is there supposed to be?” Ryouta asked of Anghel. He was thinking of the mermaid. If they existed then who knew what other mythical creatures could? Perhaps there was a whole magical mermaid kingdom down there.

“The Scorpion Tail Islands are part of a vast story I was once told by my sires!” Anghel replied, “On dulls days when the silver beings did not depart with the expected haste… My mother would embellish the tales with lively voices and…demonstrations.” His enthusiasm faded a little. Ryouta realised that he must have not seen his mother for a long time if he had been cast away. He couldn’t help but feel a little less tetchy towards the bizarre man upon realising this.

“In short,” Anghel continued, unaware of the sympathy he had gained, “There once was a mighty pair of pirates. Their accursed name was known across the seven seas and well onto the shore.  Not only were they feared as pirates but also for the dangerous magicks they partook in. It is said they made the Scorpion Tail Islands their home and built up a vast treasure trove there. Yet, aware of their mortality, together they placed an almighty curse upon that trove, so no man shall touch that trove without suffering a terrible fate – _The Boatman’s Chokehold_.”

His voice lowered to a dramatic whisper.

“It is said anyone whoo partakes of the treasures of those isles, will feel the grip of the boatman around their neck when they attempt to depart from this place. Even the Angels of Salvation cannot save you from this curse, for you invited it willingly in your avarice. The treasure is not meant to be taken.”

“But that’s why we’re here right, the treasure?” Ryouta directed this question to Nanaki. As navigator he should know why they were here.

Nanaki stuck his free hand in his pocket and looked up into the cloudless sky.

“Indeed,” he replied, “The Captain doesn’t believe in curses. In her own words she thinks nothing of ‘voodoo and magical nonsense’.  The legendary treasure of the Scorpion Tail Islands is well, legendary… and it would affirm the Captain’s position as a Pirate Queen if she obtained it. Yet what do I know? Do go on with your tale Higure.”

“There is not much tale to follow,” Anghel insisted, “The pair died in a most magnificent battle against the combined efforts of both Navy and fellow pirates. They left behind only their legend and a deadly trail of bodies to come.”

Silence hung in the air with the slight exception of a methodical chopping sound from below deck.  Ryouta didn’t think they were above the kitchens but he wasn’t curious enough to go and find out what it was.  As he looked upwards he heard a particularly fierce wave crash against the side of the ship and the cry of a distant gull.

“That’s not quite it.”

Nanaki spoke very softly, even by his standards. He had set his pipe down carefully upon the nearest barrel and now he stood, hands upon the rail, staring downwards at the ocean.  The others turned to stare at him. Anghel was frowning, seemingly surprised there may be more to the tale then his mother had told him. Ryouta, whose mother generally read to him out of books and not traded sailors’ stories, saw no reason why there couldn’t be more.

“I was told this story a great deal in my years before manhood,” Nanaki continued, “Yet this is the only time I have heard the name Scorpion Tail Islands mentioned. It is usually referred to as the Isles of Hearth’s Gold or the Accursed Hall. They are much more vague terms.”

He shot a curious look at Anghel.

“Your mother must have been very well informed.”

“She was a purveyor of the Silver Beings!” Anghel proclaimed proudly, “She frequently conversed with the men of the ocean and traded wondrous tales alongside the beings!”

“Ah I see.” Nanaki went back to staring at the sea.

“Well…she didn’t know all of it. The powerful pirates were in fact a couple. They did indeed die in a great battle but, through their magicks no doubt, they saw their end coming. Worried for the safety of their child, they put him in an orphanage upon the shore. They gave him a single item of their trove, so he would grow up to possess their magicks and be able to live on their beloved isle. They say this child is the only one immune to what you call the Boatman’s Chokehold. The more common name for it is Charon’s Curse, named after the boatman from Ancient Greek mythology of course.”

“Ah,” said Anghel. He was now looking at Nanaki with an odd gleam in his eye.  It made him look a little wild if Ryouta had to be honest.  His unkempt hair and odd clothing probably didn’t help, but the eager way in which he was staring at Mr Nanaki, made him look like he was sizing the man up. Ryouta knew he wasn’t. It was absurd that Nanaki could be a threat to anyone. However Anghel had clearly found something the matter.

“You are learned in the old letters, Siren of Nightmares. How appropriate for a person such as yourself.”

Nanaki stared back at Anghel. He was still smiling but he stiffened slightly. He hadn’t been bothered when Anghel had called him a demon earlier. How was this any different?

“I suppose it is better to call someone a term they actually understand, yes,” Nanaki replied, his airy tone had faltered. He didn’t seem to be quite so calm anymore, even if his dozy smile was still in place.

“You do know what a siren is, don’t you Higure?”

As Anghel nodded, Ryouta struggled to think why a siren would be more insulting than a demon. Both were ungodly creatures. Both were evil. Demons came in many forms but mostly they all lied and deceived and tortured people. Sirens were beautiful figures who lured innocent sailors to their deaths with sweet words and loving gestures. Maybe Nanaki didn’t like the implication he killed people? Wait. Hadn’t Nanaki mentioned sirens the other day?

“You mentioned sirens before,” Ryouta piped up, “That you wanted to believe in mermaids and that sirens were probably their cousins.”

“I did,” Nanaki acknowledged, “I just relayed a wish once told to me by a child I cared for.  He asked if people who died at sea became mermaids. It was a lovely idea but of course, mermaids don’t exist. And sirens, well, they too only exist in stories and dreams.”

“So you’ve had dreams of sirens,” Anghel said quickly, as if trying to catch the navigator out on something.

“Yes,” Nanaki sighed, as if once again, he was indulging a child.

“I have a very…active imagination after I have smoked. Often I dream of a siren. They attempt to drag me down into the depths, however these depths are more often that not, filled with stars rather than fish. It is also rather weird. How could the siren be shouting at me if we’re underwater? That’s not how anyone’s voice works. Also sirens are known to be, and depicted as, female yet this one isn’t. It’s all quite strange. Maybe I will pick up a different leaf to smoke when I am ashore.”

 

“Maybe it is a good idea to stop smoking for a bit Mr Nanaki,” Ryouta suggested, “It would stop you coughing too.”

Under any other circumstance, he would just assume that Mr Nanaki had indeed smoked far too much and seen some interesting sights.  If it only happened after Mr Nanaki had been at his pipe it really did seem like he was hallucinating. However Ryouta knew now that mermaids were in fact real. If they were real, who was to say sirens couldn’t be real? What if they really were relations of each other? Maybe Nanaki was simply dreaming but out there, somewhere, who knew?

“You’re right Kawara,” Mr Nanaki replied, “Of course it helps me sleep but…maybe the dreams aren’t worth it.” He sighed and looked at his pipe. He sounded like he was mourning it already.

Anghel, to Ryouta’s surprise, wasn’t saying anything. He had turned and fixed his gaze upon the shore again.  Ryouta followed his line of sight. The beach hadn’t changed and the waters were free of boat, bird or mermaid. As Nanaki sat down upon the deck, and Ryouta stared on, he couldn’t help but wonder:

“The treasure in the tale, it is very well hidden right? It’s not as if they’re going to come back cursed from their first encounter with the place?”

“I do not know Textorus Melodia Funeris,”  Anghel replied gravely, “I presume the pair hid their hall well… but the Captain is rather proficient and her crew experienced.  For their sakes, I hope they do not fall to the might of greed and villainy.”

Those assembled on deck fell into a contemplative yet uneasy silence. As the waves thudded against the sides of the ship, Ryouta scoured the waters for a sign of a tail or a shimmer of vivid green.  If anyone knew about these isles, the mermaid should.  They lived here.  Perhaps they could tell him about curses and treasure. Then he could find out if it was real and whether it could be avoided. He hoped it wasn’t real. If not he hoped it could be avoided. If not, Hiyoko’s determination could become their biggest adversary. If she wanted that treasure badly and didn’t believe in the curse… Ryouta gave a little shiver and began to fiddle with the chain of the pendant the mermaid gave to him. If Hiyoko ended up being their biggest curse then god help them all. 


End file.
